Animosity
by LETHALove
Summary: Dexter's sister is his exact opposite. While he tries to restrain from his Dark Passenger, she embraces it. When their paths cross, will Dexter be sympathetic and try to change his sister for the better? Or will his morals drive him to kill her?
1. Chapter One

A/N: Hey guys! LETHALove here! This is a Dexter fanfic. If you watch the show or read the book series, then you know about Dexter's brother, Brian Moser. In my story, he has a sister, not a brother. And it's in her point of view. For now, at least. Thanks for reading, and I LOVE comments, so please, comment away! Enjoy!

_And somehow, the guilt still couldn't eat me alive._

_No matter how hard you tried, the fear couldn't kill me inside._

_The memories._

_...All the blood. _

_What is there left to say?_

_You're sorry?_

_Do I have to apologize?_

_...No._

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 25 - 12:00

And I sit.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 25 - 12:02

And I wait.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 25 - 12:04

For something to happen.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 25 - 12:07

My breathing slows, the temptation follows. My thoughts seem to cease from existence, and so does everyone else's. Quiet. I like it. It's nice. Seems to prove what kind of lifestyle I wish to have. Peaceful. Undisturbed. Forgotten by the kind of past I used to have. Nothing changes. Not anymore at least. I wish it did.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 25 - 12:20

Somehow… nobody notices. Nobody stares. Nobody asks. Nobody seems to care. The definition of New York. I wish to leave, but I can't. It's perfect. It's my home. Unseen, unheard. So many people… a negative. But, it's all these people that remind of what I am… still a human. Whether it is hard to even tell anymore, I am. Unrepentant… unfaithful… how awful. I wish I was different. No, I am different. I wish I was normal.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 25 - 1:02

I think about the silence. It's so soothing to my shattered soul. A cold burst of wind rushes over me, tickling my soft skin. It's windy today. But I'm not going to wear a jacket. The raw breeze reminds me of something… something so familiar. It's a feeling. A comfortable one. One that makes me feel at home, and at the same time, so far away from the place I truly belong. I don't belong here. But I deserve this icy, bleak air. I really do.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 25 - 1:16

Behind my closed eyelids, I see horror. Reminiscences of blood-splattered clothing, dripping knives, and fading hunger. Hunger to hurt. Hunger to kill.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 25 - 1:22

Why do most people fear being alone? I crave loneliness. But this selfish need, this selfish want, is impossible to have. I will never be alone. All I will ever hear are those hushed whispers of thoughts running through my head, those faint voices. As much effort and energy I put into shutting it all out, I will never succeed. Never.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 25 - 1:28

Hallucinations surround me, and I watch as they blend into reality. Drawn into these faux images, I want to believe they aren't real. I want to know that I'm crazy; I need to know that what I see and what I hear classifies me as a schizophrenic. That is what I am, isn't it? These images, unseen by everyone else, show me the truth. They make me notice the broken-hearted lies, and the deplorable sins. I see the people hidden behind those piteous masks. But nobody sees me.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 25 - 1:39

Nobody sees the truth. Nobody notices my condemnable lies and sins. Nobody sees who I truly am behind this beautiful mask. This mask pieced and sewed together by God. A monster created by a higher power, disguised with a body of enchantment and deceiving beauty. But through the small cracks, you can see the glimpses of imperfection. You get a slight glance of what's really there. Evil. The eyes of a devil, the soul of a villain, but… the heart of a hero. And that is what I will never understand about myself.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 25 - 1:47

I know my soul does not fit my body. It's so misshapen and damaged, that it does not match up with this exquisite figure I've been put in. And every day, a feeling of deterioration flows upon me, underneath this worthless disguise the Lord has dressed me in. How pathetic I feel. How… flawed.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 25 - 1:56

I'm a hero.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 25 - 1:57

No, I'm a villain.

A/N: Copyright Disclaimer under Section 107 of the Copyright Act of 1976: allowance is made for "fair use" for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. Fair use is a use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be infringing. Non-profit, educational or personal use tips the balance in favor of fair use.


	2. Chapter Two

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 25 - 2:00

I'm done. Finally.

I stand up, and find my body swaying slightly to the strong wind. The sun hits me hard, almost blinding me, and I take a look around, squinting as I try to comprehend how the world has changed in the past two hours. People, cars, everything is moving around me. How I manage to stay completely still for two hours a day, I will never understand. But hell, there are lots of things about me I don't understand. Things I can't explain.

I inhale deeply, trying to relax. I know the purpose of my meditation is to try to calm myself down, without taking my irrational anger out on anyone else. But… can my anger really be classified as 'irrational'?

Well, sure it can. You're crazy. Psychotic. You do things to others because you can't accept the truth for yourself.

What truth?

The truth that you were never loved.

That's not true. I've been loved before.

By who? Who has ever told you they loved you? Not the doctors or the nurses. Nobody could possibly love you, and that fact will never change.

I wasn't looking to change anything.

I shake my head, rubbing my eyes, trying to gain control. I never liked it when the monster came out to play. She likes to taunt me, and haunt me in my dreams. She likes to destroy me, and turn me into nothing. You know why? Because when I'm weak, I let her take control. And she loves being at the wheel.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 25 - 2:04

I roll up my yoga mat and grab my purse, slinging it over my right shoulder carefully. My mind still intoxicated with a reminiscent mix of champagne and memories, I take a deep breath and start walking back to my apartment. The long ten minute walk gave me yet another chance to think. To breath. To submerge in the peaceful loneliness that I enjoy so very much.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 25 - 2:07

Our culture is odd. We hear it on the news everyday - overpopulation, terrorism, famine. Not enough food, water, and space to go around. We, as humans, are confined to the rules of natural selection. Our underlying motive for everything is to survive. We fight to make our name known so that others will fear us, and our survival is moreover ensured. But when there's too little of something to go around and the population keeps exponentially increasing, more competition arises.

After all, what would you do to survive? What would you do if you starving to death, and the only thing between you and your food was a human being? How far would you go?

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 25 - 2:11

It's ironic that instead of trying to come up with solutions to overpopulation, our government does things like put people in jail for killing, avoid wars, and go against cannibalism. They say that if they were to allow these things, our world would turn catastrophic and anarchy would rule. What they don't realize is that these things can be formed into controlled explosions. Like engines in a car, they need minute explosions to continue running. If not, they stop.


End file.
